have you got colour in your cheeks?
by HystericalCheezit
Summary: Ronan visits Adam. And, oh, it's three a.m. Great. /baby, we both know that the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day/


Adam heard the footsteps outside his little room in the church, but didn't think anything of it. It was just the priest, probably, unable to sleep or checking whether any vagabonds were around and in need of care or blessing. Also, he was half asleep.

The knock, soft but loud in the night's stillness, startled Adam. He closed the giant of a book he had in his hands and set it on the pillow. He wore shorts and a shirt and socks to keep off the insistent draft poking around the church at all times. The wood pulled at the socks' cotton, like grubby children on their mother's skirts.

He opened the door and dark eyes stared back at him. "Ronan?" he said, blinking at the ruffled boy. His white shirt was mussed and shadows danced around him, most prominent as bruises beneath his eyes.

"Hi, Parrish," Ronan rumbled, glancing over Adam's shoulder into the sparsely furnished, sparsely lit room. The lamp's glow skittered across the warped floors and walls, turning everything orange and warm.

"What are you doing here?" The words were a little harsh, and rightly so. Ronan couldn't just pop up at Adam's door at three in the morning, unless he brought news that Gansey was in life threatening danger or something.

"I couldn't-" There was the slightest of hesitations. Ronan was still looking into the room and out the window across it. "-escape my dreams. So I came to the church and you live here now, so I…"

"What if I was trying to sleep?"

Ronan gestured into the room. "I saw the light from under the door." He entered without permission, sliding by Adam without touching him at all. "Were you reading?" He touched his fingers to the thick book on Adam's pillow.

Adam shut the door, frustrated. He already had been, and restless, too. He was almost glad for the company, Lynch or no. He would've preferred Blue, but…things were a little strange around her now. They were strange around everyone, really. With Ronan it was always just _e_stranged, slightly hostile. He didn't give Adam as many strange looks, didn't judge him - at least it didn't seem like it - for letting Whelk die. "Yes, it's _The Odyssey_."

He cocked an eyebrow. "You're actually reading it to do the report? I used Cliff Notes. And Gansey."

"At least you're actually doing it," Adam muttered.

Ronan shrugged and sat on the bed, leaning back against the wall and dragging the volume into his lap. He leafed through it. He almost looked harmless, domestic, sitting there in sweats and a bed shirt, a book in his clutches. It was unsettling.

"Glad to see you making yourself comfortable," Adam remarked sarcastically.

"Sorry," Ronan responded, without sincerity, and flipped a page.

Adam pulled out the chair at the desk and sat in it. He watched the other boy, warring between irritation and curiosity and the odd sensation that if he just relaxed, just _let it_, this would be a comfortable scene. "What if I want to sleep?" he asked, in the same tone.

"Be my guest."

"This is my room."

Ronan lifted his gaze, molten and direct. "Yeah, and I bet it's a hell of a lot better than your old one. What did it look like anyway?"

The words are both scathing and not. "About the same size," Adam answered, because he could. Because it was just easier to. "A lot more spiders, though, and colder." He stared pointedly at Ronan. "Lot less visitors."

"Because your father's a giant fucking douche," Ronan snapped back, and then snapped the book shut. Adam's anger coiled up his insides like tentacles, strangling his organs. Ronan's movements and expressions leaked danger as he scooted forward, feet landing flat on the floor about six inches from Adam's. For the first time, Adam noticed he was barefoot. A nasty bruise snaked over the pale skin of one foot. "I'm glad you're out of there now," Ronan said, and Adam lifted his eyes to his. "The Parrish family household is a fucking mess you don't need to be involved in."

Adam parted his lips, closed them, licked them, said: "And all it took was you kicking his ass." He surprised himself by smiling.

"It was only fair he took on somebody his own size," Ronan replied. He looked over the lampshade and out the window. All Adam saw, following his gaze, was blackness beyond his own reflection, which was haggard. God, did he really look like that much shit? "And knowing he hurt you like that pissed me off already. Seeing it…" He did his smoker's breath, as sharp and razor-edged as his face in the close light of the lamp. "It's fucking bullshit."

Quietly, Adam said, "I know." He was still staring at his own sad, tired face. No bruises, though he may have been a little dark around the eyes as well.

"Do you?" A challenge echoed in the two syllables. The pads of his fingers grazed Adam's cheek. Ronan's face was fierce, practically blazing.

"What do you dream about?" Adam asked, copying Ronan's tone.

Ronan's touch dropped, left a ghostly aftertaste on Adam's skin. "Everything," he answered, "and nothing. I get…" His breath froze and his eyes danced over the ceiling. "I get trapped in them. It's hard to wrestle out. Even drinking myself into a stupor doesn't help."

"You need to sleep-"

"It's like sleep paralysis," Ronan interrupted. Something vulnerable lurked in his skittish hands, clenching each other between his knees. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be left immobile, frozen inside your own head?" His eyelashes drifted down to touch purple cheekbones. He did look quite wrecked. Even his eyelids themselves were stark violet. "It's…it's…" His hands detached, curled into separate fists. He dug them into his thighs and straightened. "It's fucking scary as shit," he said.

Adam didn't know what to say, heart beating irregularly. It felt like it was pulsing backwards. His eyes were dry and they hurt. "We can probably find something to help you," he said finally. "A drug, hypnosis, I don't know. Blue or her family-"

"I don't want to involve anyone."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "We have to do something-"

"No." Ronan's fingers were on Adam's cheek again. Adam's heart thumped faster but almost lighter, weightless and fluttering in his entire torso. "I'm trying to just do school, to make Gansey happy. This would be another thing to worry about, another setback."

"Ronan," Adam protested.

"He's happy, Parrish," he whispered. "I don't want to take that away from him."

"This isn't just about Gansey. It's about all of us." He was fully aware of Ronan's fingers on his face, unmoving but undeniably there. They were the same temperature as Adam's skin, warmer than the air surrounding them. "Gansey would want you to tell him."

Ronan shook his head, though he had to know it was true. He shifted his butt on the bed a little, so he was a couple of inches closer to Adam. Even with them both kind of leaning forward, they were still pretty far apart. If Adam sat on the edge of his chair, though…

I could kiss him, Adam thought, the sensation wild and unbidden. There's no stupid superstitious curse around him.

Thinking it made Adam's breath hitch a little. It was barely noticeable, but notice it Ronan did. "Come here," he said, except it was more of a mumble. His knuckle brushed the corner of Adam's mouth and nerves lanced his insides. His breath caught again, warmth stirring in the pit of his stomach.

He moved to sit beside Ronan on the bed, slid his hand over Ronan's neck and slid the other on his thigh. Ronan cupped one of Adam's cheeks, then both. Their noses bumped, and then their mouths. It was soft, tentative, warm, all kinds of things unimaginable from Ronan.

"I guess I should have known," Adam said, breathless and lightheaded, when they pulled apart a mere centimeter. Their foreheads rested against each other.

"Should you?"

"This early a visit can only be a booty call," he explained, and against his mouth, Ronan smiled.

"I was hoping for some peace, actually," Ronan said. His eyelids were lowered. Beyond them the eyes themselves were dark, and he looked almost drunk.

"And you thought you could find that with me?"

Ronan shrugged. His pulse was as quick as Adam's against Adam's palm. "We _are_ in a church." He pulled back further. His cheeks were flushed, more so than when he inhaled beer after beer after beer after beer. "I was thinking I could spend the night."

Adam was pierced by alarm and something else. His eyebrows shot skywards. Whatever comfort and excitement he found in Ronan's proximity, he wasn't… He wasn't… Well. "I don't really think I'm prepared for, uh…that," he replied, face hotter than the hottest point in Henrietta on the year's hottest day.

Ronan smirked, and he said, "I meant here, in the church, maybe on your floor or something." When he tugged Adam's face closer, Adam didn't protest. Ronan's tongue was hot, wet, wicked. Adam's insides and outsides jittered, and his hand on Ronan's thigh slipped over and touched a place it really had no business being. Ronan let out a small noise that made Adam's shoulder blades shake, and he felt Ronan's dick twitch under his hand, reacting positively to his touch. "Or maybe in your bed, under your blankets, with no clothes on is good," he amended, voice strained.

"Sorry," Adam muttered. His ears were as hot as the skin in his own pants was beginning to be. He moved his hand away, and then himself. Ronan watched him seriously, maybe thoughtfully. Is that what desire looks like? Adam wondered as he watched the other boy lick his lips. "You can sleep in my bed. And not for - making out, or anything. Human contact could help with the dreams, you know. And the floor isn't comfortable at all."

Ronan nodded. "Thanks?"

It was a sardonic question but regardless Adam replied, "You're welcome." They sat for a few awkward moments, Ronan staring at him and Adam staring at his hands. He was a walking, perpetual blush. Then they moved, Adam putting _The Odyssey_ on the desk and Ronan climbing under the covers, close to the wall. Adam shut off the lamp and the room plunged into darkness. It took a few blinks for his eyes to adjust to the faint light coming in through the window. He hesitated, watching Ronan's eyes and sharp face glitter.

"You could stand there and look at me," the other boy commented after a minute, "but if you come in here I promise to waive my right to bite."

Adam smiled. "Accepted," he said and got into the bed beside Ronan. Ronan snuggled close to him, smelling of aftershave and Chainsaw, and slid his arm between Adam's dusky hair and the pillow. It was cozy, and once Adam's heart slowed, the awkward tension in his muscles uncoiled.

Ronan set a surprisingly gentle kiss to Adam's hairline, and the intimate gesture set the tension hard at work again. Ronan's hand rubbed his chest, as if to soothe him again. "Goodnight, Parrish," he slurred, the sound considerably more fuzzy and sweet when not brought upon by stupefying alcohol.

"Goodnight, Lynch," Adam whispered back, relaxing, and slipped into a dreamless sleep, lips curled faintly up. Hopes raced in his subconscious peripheral - that Ronan fell into an empty rest as well, and that in the morning he wouldn't have to deal with any repercussions, or famous Lynch anger, or clammy regret. That this meant life could get better. For real, for good. For…

Just for good.


End file.
